A narrow wooden ramp angled up into the granite-lined channel at a 35- or 40-degree incline. Strips of lath were pounded in every foot or so to keep intrepid travelers -- folded nearly in half to protect their heads from the stone overhead -- from sliding as they ascend.

The atmosphere was hot, thick and increasingly airless as I counted my steps, whispering reassurances to myself: "You're not claustrophobic, 34, 35, 36. Imagine a not-claustrophobic person and be her, 55, 56, 57. There is sufficient oxygen here, 77, 78."

I am claustrophobic, though. Seriously so. Or I was a month ago. But when the first passage ended and narrow stairs led upward, the ceiling suddenly soaring to the full height of Egypt's Great Pyramid of Giza, there was no need to breathe anymore. Awe has that effect.

There are no glorious, golden ornaments in the burial chamber of Cheops, no ocher- and lapis-painted scenes -- just a stark, stone chamber and a giant sarcophagus, suitable for holding the body of the pharaoh.

In the summer months of years gone by, the chamber also would have held a sweltering mass of humanity, of sweaty tourists pressed cheek by jowl to gawk, shriek and express disappointment over the lack of treasure. Tourism has plummeted in the past two years, a descent hastened by last year's Arab Spring and the protests of recent months, as Egyptians struggle with the new regime they elected and Western headline hyperbole blurs Algeria, Egypt, Giza and Gaza.

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But this is a magnificent time to visit Egypt, to revel in the glories of millennia past, meet new and wonderful people and fulfill the dreams of childhood. There are no lines in the Valley of the Kings in Luxor, and no crush of tourists in Cairo eager to see Tutankhamun's treasures and the blueprints for tombs, etched in clay by the pharaohs' engineers.

Prices are low, the sights spectacular and the welcome so warm it moved us nearly to tears as strangers gathered to hold our hands, thank us for coming to visit their country -- and discuss politics, ours and theirs.

Still, even our oldest daughter thought we'd veered from impetuous into recklessness when we suddenly announced that some things on a bucket list shouldn't wait. This part of the world may have hot spots, but we were going to Egypt to delve into tombs and temples, soar in hot-air balloons and sail the Nile in a 19th-century vessel.

We were going to hang out with Egyptians and taste everything that life has to offer, from foul -- a cumin-scented fava bean stew served for breakfast -- to strawberry juice, stuffed pigeon and long-simmered chicken tajin. And we were going now.

Which is how we came to be standing in the center of the Great Pyramid, hands pressed to the sand-polished stone and feeling, for a moment, a bridge across time. When we were joined presently by two or three other travelers, they emerged from the dark, their voices hushed as they took it all in. It was magic.

The nine days that followed unspooled in a dream, a series of gloriously, vividly exuberant adventures that make it impossible to name a favorite experience. We did the classic things, rode camels -- named Michael Jackson and Michael Douglas -- across the Giza plateau, plunged into subterranean tombs (now claustrophobia-cured) and traipsed through the Temples of Karnak, Horus, Kom Ombo and Philae. We soared above Luxor in a giant hot-air balloon -- and discovered that it is possible to get balloon-sick.

A sunset sail on the Nile is a tradition for travelers to Egypt. Here, a felucca sails serenely by as the sun sets over Aswan. (Jackie Burrell)

But we also saw a side of Egypt that most tourists will never see -- thanks to the efforts of Eric Monkaba, who runs Backpacker Concierge, the eco-conscious bespoke travel company we stumbled upon that arranges guides, drivers and immersive experiences and adventures for independent travelers (it sounds luxurious -- and certainly can be -- but costs less than your last trip to Hawaii). It is no accident that nearly all of our guides in Egypt were women. Monkaba says most tourists never interact with Egyptian women at all.

We talked pharaohs, dynasties, artifacts and teens with our Cairo guide, an extremely well-educated Egyptologist and mother of a music-loving 16-year-old. We discussed Kushite history, women's rights and the plight of Nubian villages displaced by the High Dam with our guide in Aswan, an articulate and ferociously intellectual Nubian woman.

As the fiery sun lit the sands of the Sahara along Aswan's western shore, we sipped hibiscus tea, listened to Bob Marley and Sudanese hip-hop -- and talked about marriage, dating and relationships with felucca sailors, Islamic young men in their 20s, who were eager to converse, explain and connect.

But the most memorable moment may have come on the banks of an island in the middle of the river. We were sailing between Aswan and Luxor aboard a dahabeeyah, a four-cabin, 19th-century-style houseboat with two sails -- and a tugboat for the hours when the wind slackened. We had dined on the shore, reclining on pillows and carpets -- and wondered where the peeled grapes were -- then danced on the shore to the sound of Egyptian drums, when we felt like we were being watched.

It was a water buffalo, reclining in the grass 20 feet away, its brown eyes blinking in the moonlight.

Egypt can be a challenging country if you don't read or speak Arabic. Your math teacher may say we use Arabic numerals, but their zero is a dot, a 7 a V and the 2 looks like an eighth-note rest. Driving involves a high-speed disregard for lane lines, with traffic that resembles the chaotic flow of corpuscles through arteries, mixed with tractors, wandering goats and vans that disgorge commuters in the middle of the freeway -- while the vehicle is still moving. Hire a driver and a guide. Most tourists opt for the big tour-group package, but if you are an independent traveler -- like us -- a private driver, translator and guide are essential in Egypt. Your hotel or travel agent can arrange this for you. We made our arrangements through Backpacker Concierge, an online bespoke travel company that specializes in adventures, immersion experiences and insider access for people with a backpacker philosophy, but a yearning for a little -- or a lot -- more comfort. Figure on a minimum of $125 per person per night, not including international flights. Find it online at www.backpackerconcierge.com.